


A Place For My Heart

by Falconette



Category: Free!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 20:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2887427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falconette/pseuds/Falconette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin returning to Australia with unfinished business after his trip to Japan in season 1.</p><p>He seems to be cursed with a habit of leaving the people he cares for behind, but he also seems to leave parts of himself with them. That means he has to go back again and again to retrieve the missing pieces...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place For My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it, THE single soppiest piece I have written in my life, thankyouverymuch, PMS does that for you. And Rin, the mushy bishie *snuggles*.
> 
> For fangirling only, others wouldn’t understand anyway.

 

 

**A Place For My Heart**

I was just locking my front door, tucking the keys away in my purse and rushing down the pathway across the lawn to the front gate when I spotted a squatting figure to my right, half obscured by thick decorative shrubbery. I was startled but didn’t scream out, maybe because it was broad daylight any my neighborhood was relatively safe, maybe because, somewhere in the back of my mind, I was expecting this encounter all along. Did I really believe it had ended with him leaving?

So as my body inadvertently froze in a surprise, my eyes searched the features of the intruder, half dreading, half praying to find some familiar, tell-tale sign. He – and it was definitely a he – was not moving, just looking at the ground with a backpack on his back, a baseball cap on his head and his arms wrapped around his knees. I had been mistaken, he was not squatting but sitting and, although I couldn’t see for sure, something told me he was not asleep even though it seemed he had been in that position for quite some time.

“You.” was all I could say after I spotted couple of reddish locks that poured under cap’s crown and the flat statement was left hanging in the air like a curse or an accusation.

He made a motion as if he would meet my gaze but then looked towards the door, his eyes hidden by peak of the baseball cap.

“I wanted to ring the doorbell…” his English had a strange accent, like he was remembering how to use it, but it was _his_ voice. “I didn’t know what to say.”

I stood glued to the same spot, watching him practically sit on my doorstep and taking such care to avoid me at the same time and felt my blood start to simmer.

“Just like before you left?” the words were like sand between my teeth, dry and lifeless, but my tone was deceptively cold. If I still had the keys in my hand, I think I would have hurled them at him. How dare he just show up, after all these months, when I finally moved on…

He sighed as he used to when he couldn’t come up with a reply and his shoulders sagged under the weight of the backpack. I noticed it still had the airport check-in tag sticking to it and that his clothes were peculiar, too thick and bulky for Australian early summer.

“Did you just come back?” I stated more than asked, unsure whether to move towards him or towards the street. I had appointments to meet, errands to run. My life was out there, not beside him, not anymore.

He slowly nodded without looking up. I waited for him to say something, to explain himself, downplay everything as a joke, ask how I have been, start talking about what he’s been up to – or at least _look at me for heaven’s sake_ – but he sat like a petrified garden figure, letting our precious time, my precious patience slide through his fingers. I remembered how I grew to hate him at one point. After the pain of being deserted without an explanation had faded away and desperate search for reasons and things I did wrong that made him leave ceased to keep me awake at night, after all the tears and the hurt, all that remained was cold anger. Voracious, insatiable anger.

“You can’t sleep here.” I said finally and moved towards the gate.

“I know.” he said with a sting of wounded pride that made me grit my teeth. Behind my back, I heard him stand up and mumble “I came here to apologize. It was not ok for me to disappear like that…”

“Not ok!?” I turned on my heel with vehemence that surprised even me, meeting his gaze for the first time in months. Even in my rage I noticed there was something different about the eyes that were staring at me in bewilderment, anticipating my next reaction. The first time I saw him genuinely terrified and… alive?

“NOT OK!? Was making me deal with your mood swings and your depression ok? Was your attitude towards me when you had bad days ok?” He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but I gave him no chance. The dam I had been building since he left had crumbled and the river of words I wanted to tell him for so long came tumbling out, unstoppable and venomous, wanting to drown him and wipe him out, make him feel the same way I did.

“You hating yourself and the world, me included, that I could deal with. You giving up on and picking up swimming again, changing schools, teams and coaches, blaming everybody for every little thing that didn’t go your way, that I could deal with. But being left behind with a piece of paper informing me you decided overnight to return to Japan, without even properly saying goodbye to my face, THAT I cannot deal with!” The tide of emotions bottled up for too long was rising, taking me away with it, pushing me onwards, speaking for itself with my voice.

“I didn’t leave you.” He said quietly, as if not to challenge me, “I just left. I had to.”

„YOU had to!? And what about me!? What was I supposed to do? Drop everything, fly to Japan to look for you!?„ the hand that was holding my purse was clutched like talons of a hawk, shaking with rage. I felt if I unclenched it, I would knock that stupid cap off his head and slap him across the face. If I started, maybe I would never stop hitting.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” his mouth formed the words, the corny and shallow line that was of no use to me.

“Fuck that!” I spat out, flashing my teeth in a grimace, fighting with all I had not to cry, not now, not in front of him. “You broke my fucking heart, Rin!”

My voice started to betray me as my vision doubled and blurred. I had to go. My legs found their way down the familiar path and soon I was on the street, marching away towards the bus station and onto the bus, didn’t care which one, just any one that would leave immediately, now, ASAP, I had to put as much space as I could between him and me, if he would only sit on a plane and fly back to Japan, that would be far enough, probably…

“Are you alright, miss?” an elderly woman that was sitting next to me unobtrusively inquired. Her voice was warm and gentle and I felt safe enough to look up and meet the eyes hidden behind folds of sagged skin but still present and caring. “Do you need a tissue?”

A wrinkled, trembling hand was already holding out a stark white piece of paper and I gratefully accepted, pressing it to my eyes, not caring what it will do to my make-up. The faint smell of menthol from the tissue softened the bitter sting of tears but the abysmal hole in my chest that I thought was stitched up and gone was howling back at me, louder than ever before. I felt its scar tissue break apart and bleed with every uncontrollable sob that escaped my chest.

* * *

I cancelled all my appointments that day and cleared my agenda, feeling the urge to keep moving to shake off the feeling of betrayal, anger and sorrow that reared their ugly heads again. I don’t know how long I roamed the town, exchanging one bus for another, sitting in random cafes and parks, walking down unfamiliar streets, numb and unresponsive, until I finally found myself before my lawn gate. At that point, I was barely standing on my feet, unsure whether all this had happened or was it a daydream, a wish I prayed for countless times and my greatest fear coming true.

And, just like that, he was standing on the path before me, obscured by thickening dusk, without the baseball cap and the backpack, with a look of anxiety and fatigue on his face.

“You? Still here?” my dry lips let out a hoarse, weak voice. I had no more anger in me, no more tears.

“I left one too many times already.” He said in the calm, steady voice that I missed so much. And it tore at my heart, again.

“Rin…” I begun tiredly, but he moved closer, raising one hand to cut me off.

“I just want you to hear me out. I know I don’t have the right to ask anything from you, not even that, but… please.” He was standing near me, too intimately close for just a nobody but he made no move to touch me, although my body instinctively expected to feel his arms around my waist, even after all this time, after everything. Their absence hurt as much as the aching hole in my chest. His eyes carefully caressed my face like tender fingertips, taking their time, making sure everything was as he remembered it or maybe finally saying goodbye after all this time. Maybe both.

“I am sorry, I have no excuses.” He begun with unusual rawness in his voice, then choked up. He closed his lids and whispered the apology in his native tongue again and again like it bore more meaning that way, and to my astonishment I realized he was crying. Rin I knew would rather be caught dead than teary-eyed. Rin I remembered was the eponym of a cynic who valued strength and perseverance above anything and didn’t have kind words for anyone showing weakness.

I moved half a step away and eyed him carefully, tangled in a dream-like disbelief. His hair had grown, it seemed he didn’t cut it while he was away, and by the muscle bulk of his arms and shoulders I concluded he must have picked up swimming again, but there was no mistake – this was the same jerk that didn’t deign me with an explanation or a goodbye before disappearing, the lover I lost, the missing piece.

I gave him the time he needed in silence and, after composing himself, he opened his eyes seemingly disappointed to notice I had moved away. The man that was looking at me now had lost the cruel edge that accompanied his words and glares and, maybe it was just his tiredness, but something about him seemed more mature and gentle. He spoke slowly, carefully mouthing each word without breaking the eye contact. He took his time, these may have been the last minutes he had with me, and his orbs were showing that, the mixture of desperation and hope, something I have never seen in his gaze before. I felt it was very important for him to get through to me and while a part of me struggled to resist, another part was eager to hear him out. Both parts deemed the other a traitor.

“I don’t know if you’ll understand, but I had to go back. I was a mess and the help I needed was not here.” Reluctantly, he made a tiny step forward, as if not to scare me away. “I am… I have found my purpose. Oh hell, that sounds like stupid new age crap,” a wan smile quickly appeared and disappeared on his face, “But that is exactly what happened. I still don’t understand a lot of it myself and there are things that I yet need to sort out but… I am fine. Finally.” For a moment, a genuine smile - relieved, tired and proud at the same time - lit up his entire face. A sight I have never seen before and it left me speechless. Whatever happened back in Japan had changed him profoundly.

”Thank you for putting up with my shit.” His hand instinctively went for mine, but he stopped himself mid-way, unreachable, pricking my heart with a cold needle. The distance I wished for between us was there alright, for better or for worse. He caused me so much pain but I missed him even more.

I just shook my head, unwilling to accept the expressed gratitude, afraid of opening myself up. I felt I didn’t quite know this man standing before me, but everything about him was familiar, loveable and missed. I wished he would just go away and let me carry on as yesterday. I wished he would just stop talking and hold me tight, let me bury my face in his hair. Instead, I stared at his apologetic figure, barely breathing, petrified.

His eyes searched my face to gauge my reaction but found no answers, so he continued in unsure voice. “I came back because I couldn’t stand being without you. I will never forgive myself if even all that meant I had to lose you.”

His chin started to tremble and my hands balled into fists. “See,“ he tried to smile but his mouth stubbornly twisted downward, “this is why I couldn’t face you before I left. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Even if that meant you may never see me again?” my voice was icy, accusing and lonely.

_Don’t ask for my forgiveness, you jerk, you have no right! Pull me in your embrace already, can’t you see I am falling apart!_

“I was such an idiot, stupid, hopeless idiot!” tears of pain and frustration slid down his face but he didn’t hide them from me anymore, letting the ground between us soak them up. “Not just for leaving, for being like that. Everything you said before… you were right. What did you ever see in such a loser?”

“I…” a soft cry escaped my mouth with a will of its own, desperate to tell him how many precious moments we shared and how wonderful it was to have him by my side, taking the good with the bad, and exactly that was the reason when he left, he ripped my heart out and took it with him. The cavity in my chest painfully resonated with my heartbeat. It would not stop.

He took no notice and continued in a serious tone.

“I came to ask you something and I will ask only once. Then, if you wish, I will leave forever and you will never hear from me again.” Wet streaks across his cheeks glistened with warm light under orange street lamps. I felt the urge to touch them, to see if they were real, if they were as warm and bitter as mine had been. His eyes were sad, tinged with unfamiliar tenderness, but determined. At that moment, he was more beautiful than ever.

_Go away! Stay!_

“G-give me my heart back…” before he said anything more I muttered, feeling lightheaded, not even knowing what I meant.

He seemed startled for a moment then his wide shoulders started shaking with sobs. He shook his head and looked at me pleadingly, as if he was about to get down to his knees in repentance. His handsome face was twisted into a grimace of pain, the words coming from his throat vexed but discernible, the hands spread in vulnerable, desperate gesture, “I am sorry, I cannot. But you can have mine instead!”

I found myself in his embrace without memory how I got there; my body must have listened to his silent calling and his arms accepted me readily, cradling me in a place made just for me, where I fitted perfectly, against his body, mingling with his scent. He pressed his chest against mine and, as I felt his heart strongly pounding, there were no more hollows to fill, just two beating rhythms greeting each other after a long, long time apart.

His breath tickled my ear as he effortlessly picked me off the ground, almost painfully squeezing me with his powerful arms and holding me close, unaware of his own strength, and whispered, “Here is where it belongs, anyway.”


End file.
